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Getting
Close to the Humpback Whale
Text by Dr John POTTER and Caroline DURVILLE
Photos by Dr John POTTER, Caroline DURVILLE and Dr Adam PACK
"Blow
at 3 o'clock, he's up." Immediately the skilled helmsman
(in this case a helmswoman) turns to position us behind the Humpback
whale. He will breathe perhaps three times, signaling each with
a misty plume and the tell-tale hump of his dorsal fin just breaking
the surface. Then, with luck, he'll arch his back and show his
flukes as he dives again, giving us the opportunity to take a
digital photograph of his characteristic markings for later identification.
This particular whale is a lone singing male and he will stay
down for about 12-15 minutes between surfacing events. As soon
as he dives the research boat moves into the puka (a persistent
smooth patch of water created on the surface where the whale dives)
and we can clearly hear the singing reverberating through the
hull. We deploy a tracking snorkeler guide while we scramble to
get our dive gear on. "That's him and he's on the cow".
Strange language.
For
2 weeks this March we joined a Humpback Whale Research Project
in Maui. Every year from January through April a team of researchers
from the University of Hawaii go out on the water 11 out of 14
days to learn more about these fascinating and endangered mammals.
Watching whales frolicking in the sea seemed like it would be
a dream job. We know better now. A typical day looks like this:
06:30
Get up, have breakfast and prepare a packed lunch. Get all the
gear ready (cameras cleaned, fresh film, batteries charged and
changed, etc.) and loaded in the van and car.
07:30 Leave the whale house and drive 40 minutes to where the
research boats are kept, near the whale wintering grounds. Unload
the van, get the boats off their moorings, park the vehicles,
refuel, load all the gear on board, collect dive tanks, etc. as
required for the day.
09:00 Out on the water looking for and observing Humpback whales,
gathering data. There may be hours of patient watching and log
recording, punctuated by frantic activity preparing for a dive
(usually just as you've lathered sun lotion all over yourself
and broken out the packed lunch).
18:00 Return to harbour, get all the gear off the boat, wash down,
load the van, etc. then drive the 40 minutes back to the house,
trying not to fall asleep.
19:40 Back home. Time to cook, clean up the gear, enter the data
into the computer, review the video footage, eat, repair anything
that broke, etc.
23:30 Fall into bed totally exhausted. 
It
is hard work for the regular team members, requiring enormous
dedication, but also very rewarding. Observing these majestic
whales up close is a fantastic experience.
The
North Pacific Humpback whale is a protected species. It spends
the summer months feeding on krill and small fish in Alaska. About
two-thirds of the population migrates 3,000 miles south to the
islands of Hawaii for the winter months where they do not eat
at all. The whales are thought to come to these protected warm
waters to calve and mate. We saw many moms and calves, often displaying
splashy surface behaviour. Sometimes the mom would be slapping
her pectoral fin or tail fluke while the little one practised
miniature copies. Well, miniature is not quite the right word.
Calves are born weighing several tonnes. The most impressive display
is the breach. Imagine a 45 ton whale jumping clear out of the
water more than half its body length and then crashing back in
with a tremendous splash.
Whale
watching boats are not permitted to approach closer than 100 m.
Whale researchers may get closer if they have a permit, of which
only a few are issued. Dr Adam Pack of the University of Hawaii
is one of the lucky ones. He wrote a successful permit application,
and he's got permission to have us added to that permit to dive
with rebreather scuba gear on these magnificent animals. 
The
objective is to record the strength of the male song, a complex
and eerie sequence of sounds that the entire population agrees
all the singing males should sing the same way, at least for that
season. It lasts 10-15 minutes and consists of several themes.
The themes this year are called Cow, Toilet, Hiccup, Creaky-door,
Ratchet and Scream. The song is always sung in this order, so
when you hear the 'Scream' theme, you know he's about to surface.
What we don't know about Humpback song dwarfs what we do know.
We don't know, for example, what it is for. We don't know how
the animal makes the sound, or how loud it is, or if it is projected
more strongly in one direction than another. It is to begin to
answer some of these questions that we have proposed to dive on
singing males, who lie stationary in the water in a head-down
orientation at 10-40 m depth. We do know that Humpbacks blow bubbles
as a sign of aggression, so open-circuit scuba will not do. Not
if you don't want to challenge a 40-ton male. So we use expensive
and technical rebreathers that let only a little 'fizz' of air
out every now and again. We take digital video recorders with
us, equipped with hydrophones to record the song with CD-like
quality. No-one has tried this before. It is hard enough to find
singing males, and the thought of actually diving into the clear
blue water with them is exhilarating and not a little intimidating.
How will they react?
As
we swim towards our surface snorkeler guide, we can make out the
dark shape below. With little ceremony, we dive. There's not much
time. The song becomes louder, filling our ears, the water, making
our chest and stomach vibrate. The power is awesome. Quite suddenly,
the dark shape becomes clearer and we can see the creases in the
skin, the knobbly pectoral fins extended almost to within touching
distance. We are perhaps only 10 m from a 40-ton whale that is
filling the ocean with sound and eyeing us suspiciously. It is
an unreal experience. It makes you feel like a mosquito; insignificant,
tiny and at the mercy of this gentle giant. We point our cameras
and take our readings. We do not have time to be awed, we have
work to do. It seems that we have hardly started when the Humpback
arrives at his final themes, rotates to point toward the surface
and begins to pump his powerful back and flukes. Two or three
mild flexes and he's moving at 4-5 knots, now gliding to the surface
to breathe. We see him slide by majestically and then soar over
our heads, reaching for the surface. In a moment he's disappeared
once again into the blue distance. That something so large can
be so graceful, and disappear so easily, makes you wonder if he
was really there. Or were you dreaming? As if to dispel out doubts,
after a moment, the deep haunting grunts of the 'Cow' theme, the
beginning of a new song, fill our ears and remind us that he's
still there, still singing his mysterious lament.
About
the Author
John Potter and Caroline Durville are a Padi Instructor and
Divemaster. This husband and wife team likes to dive at every opportunity,
be it teaching scuba to adults and kids, taking people on adventure
trips or participating in exciting research.
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